Home
by Munchkincat
Summary: What if Topher's surgery had turned out differently? How one moment in time changes everything. Chapter 3 is now up. My story is now complete. :)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Night Shift is property of NBC and all respective cast, crew , and employees. I am not making a profit off this. This is simply for fancition enjoyment.

Summary: What if Topher's surgery had turned out differently? How one moment in time changes everything.

Rating: PG-13

**Home**

Michael Ragosa looked Dr. Jordan Alexander straight in the eyes after telling her she needed to treat every patient like everyone else. Even if that meant giving surgical priority to a shooter to killed one of their own... and possibly another.

Jordan sighed heavily.

"Paul?"

"Yeah?" Dr. Paul Cummings turned back around.

"Go ahead and book the OR."

* * *

As Dr. Paul Cummings and Dr. Topher Zia waited for Topher to pee in the bottle, Topher tried to fill the uneasy silence.

"Thanks for putting me in my place." Topher said, his voice still raspy.

"... Come to think of it, some patients may be combative and be even bigger jerks than I was earlier. Don't let them shake you."

Paul nodded.

Topher shuddered as he finally peed in the bottle, per Paul's instructions. The pain in his stomach seemed to augment.

"What is it? You okay?" Paul asked.

When Topher pulled the bottle from under the blanket covering him, Paul's eyes widened. The bottle contained blood... a lot of blood.

Suddenly Topher began gasping.

"I can't... breathe..."

"Nurse!" Paul shouted, "Dr. Clemmens right now. Give me TC, give me Jordan, anybody!"

Paul began bagging Topher, squeezing air into his lungs with bag Ambu bag. The minutes seemed to turn into hours as Topher's pressure steadily dropped. A nurse ran back into the room.

"Dr. Clemmens and Dr. Alexander are working on a patient in surgery right now and Dr. Callahan won't answer his page." she announced.

"I need a surgeon, now," Paul emphasized. Topher had now lost consciousness. If his pressure dropped even lower, Paul didn't even want to think about what would happen next.

"Pull Dr. Clemmens or Dr, Alexander out of surgery."

"But we're not supposed to interrupt them while they're in surgery," the nurse protested.

Topher's previous words to Paul echoed in his head.

"Do you hear me? GET ONE OF THEM OUT OF SURGERY NOW!"

The nurse jumped at Paul's tone, but then ran to the OR.

"Yes. doctor."

* * *

"Dr. Cummings needs one of you," the nurse explained after barging into the OR, "Dr. Zia's b.p.'s down to 60 and he's bleeding out."

"Topher," Jordan said breathlessly.

Scott hesitated for half a second before responding. He still had a lot of work to do to treat Milo and Jordan did not have the experience he had.

"Jordan, can you step in?" Scott asked, handing Jordan the instruments he had in his hands.

Jordan nodded.

"You can do this," Scott whispered in her ear, "I'll take care of Topher. Call me if you run into trouble."

"I won't have any problems," Jordan said, glaring down at her patient.

She finished working on Milo in silence and joined Scott as soon as she was done.

* * *

As Scott began the surgery on Topher, he knew immediately things were bad.

"Why the hell wasn't I called earlier? We've got to stop the bleeding. More suction, please."

Blood was pouring around Topher's spinal cord and it seemed as if the more blood was suctioned out, the more came in.

Scott looked up at a noise in the entrance.

"There you are!" he exclaimed as he saw TC stride into the OR, "Where've you been? The nurses said you wouldn't answer your page."

TC didn't answer Scott's question and the next few moments happened in a blur. One minute, Scott was explaining Topher's dire condition to TC, the next, TC exploded, shouting, "He can't die!" while lunging at the surgeons.

"Get him out of here!"

In the ensuing struggle Scott saw out of the corner of his eye, the assistant surgeon's hands. With his left hand, the surgeon pushed TC out of the way while his right hand, holding a scalpel, dropped very slightly.

"NO!"

Scott pulled the assistant's hand up and out of the way, but it was too late. Scott cursed under his breath. His shouted his next instructions and began to sweat as he worked on Topher.

* * *

Scott let out a heavy sigh as Topher was rolled out of surgery. Jordan was holding back tears.

"Maybe.. ma-maybe you were imagining things," Jordan stammered.

"Jordan," Scott turned to face his girlfriend, "I _know_ what I saw. Dr. Kelper nicked Topher's spinal nerves with a scalpel while he was trying to keep TC back."

Jordan shook her head disbelievingly.

"As much as I want to be able to, I can't repair the damage."

Scott waited a few beats before saying what he wanted to next.

"TC's a loose cannon. He shouldn't be working here or anywhere else for that matter."

Jordan turned back to face Scott, grit her teeth and opened her mouth to say something, but then just turned and walked away.

* * *

"Is he gonna be okay?" Janet, Topher's wife, looked worryingly through the window. Topher was being hooked up to monitoring devices while an oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth.

Scott closed his eyes and slowly opened them, letting out a deep breath.

"I did as much as I could," he said, choosing his words carefully, "I cleared the blood from his spinal cord, but there may still be some damage."

"What?!"

"There is a chance that Topher may be paralyzed."

"H-How large a chance?" Janet stammered.

"If Topher is able to move his legs, we're good. If not..."

"If not, how much of a chance does he have of walking?"

Scott waited as long as he could before delivering the news.

"... less than 5 percent."

"No!" Janet shook her head firmly, "He is going to walk!"

Janet strode quickly from Scott to Topher, but Scott heard what she said under her breath.

"I hope."

As Janet sat by Topher's prone form, she struggled to keep back the tears. She pushed back Topher's hair and gently kissed him on the forehead. Even though Topher had yet to wake up from the anesthesia, Janet spoke to him.

"You're going to be fine, Toph," she whispered, "you hear me? You're going to be just fine."

Slowly, Scott walked away, his head downcast.

* * *

"I need more pain meds!" the unruly patient shouted.

Jordan entered the post-op room, coming face-to-face one again with Milo.

She glanced at Milo's chart.

"You're fine," she said flatly.

"Did you hear what I said, Missy?"

"Yes," Jordan replied dismissively.

She turned towards the two policemen in the room.

"Get him out of here."

* * *

TC left the room emotionally spent, yet relieved. More relieved than he had been in years. He had finally told someone... Jordan about what had happened to his brother years ago. For years, he carried the responsibility of his brother's death. His hesitation has cost his brother his life. He finally told someone. No one, not even his fellow soldiers fighting alongside him, had known. Although he still felt some guilt, talking with Jordan helped.

"TC!"

TC turned and quickly glanced to his left. When he saw Scott, he quickly raised his hand dismissively and kept on walking.

"I don't care what you have to say," he muttered softly, assuming Scott would berate him.

"Really?" Scott said to TC's retreating back, "Even if that means Topher might be paralyzed because of you?"

TC immediately stopped and turned slowly around.

"Yeah," Scott nodded, "Because of your little outburst in the OR, one of the assistants had to push you away. In doing that, he cut Topher's spinal nerves."

TC stared at Scott, at a complete loss for words.

"No..." his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Oh yeah," Scott said emphatically, "now if that's not proof you don't belong in the OR, I don't know what is."

TC's hands tensed in the air and muttered under his breath, "You've got to be lying, you little..."

But he glanced behind him, suddenly aware of where he was. Several nurses were behind him and all were watching.

Quickly, TC turned on his heel and walked away.

* * *

The first thing Topher noticed was the sound of whooshing oxygen and the cool feel of it on his nose and mouth. The dull pain in his stomach and now on his back came next. He stirred slightly and winced as he opened his eyes.

"Hey Toph," a voice said gently.

Topher turned his head to the left and smiled as he saw his wife.

Janet gently stroked the side of his face.

Topher took off the oxygen mask.

"How're you doing?" he asked, his voice even weaker than before.

"I'm okay," Janet chuckled, "How are you?"

Topher shrugged, "Eh, been better."

Janet bit her lower lip, wanting to ask Topher something, yet not wanting to at the same time.

"You should go home," Topher said, "I'll be fine. The girls need you and have probably driven the babysitter nuts by now-"

"Can you move your legs?" Janet said in a rush before fear could back her down.

Topher gave Janet a sideways look, then looked at his legs as the implication of what she said sank in.

Topher adjusted himself to sit higher in the hospital bed.

"Hey," Jordan stepped into the room, "How are-"

"What happened to me?" Topher interrupted, looking at his legs.

"You were shot," Jordan said, thinking Topher was still recovering from the anesthesia.

"Not that! Why can't I move my legs?"

Jordan and Janet exchanged worried glances. Janet tried to fight back tears.

Jordan let out a slow breath.

"We were afraid of this," she said, trying to maintain her own composure, "because we had to treat that scumbag Milo, it took a few minutes longer to get you into surgery when you started bleeding."

A moment of silence passed as Topher processed the information.

"... and in that time, the bleeding around my spine pushed up against and damaged my spinal nerves." Topher finished for her.

"There's still a chance you could walk once you regain your strength..."

"How much of a chance?" Topher asked, looking Jordan in the eyes.

"Less than five percent," Jordan replied hesitantly.

"No," Topher said adamantly, "we spew out statistics all the time, but we really don't know, do we?"

"There's still a chance..." Jordan's voice trailed off. She held up a small instrument with a pointed end.

"Can I?"

Topher shrugged in resignation and pulled the blanket off his legs. Starting at his toes, Jordan began gently poking his skin with the instrument. She progressed upward, alternating between each leg. Each time, Topher shook his head or stated flatly that he didn't feel anything.

Jordan's hand began to shake. She had done this assessment on patients before, but this was different. She never truly stopped to think about what must be going through the patient's mind; desperate to feel something and devastated each time they didn't.

Finally, when Jordan poked near Topher's bellybutton, he gasped.

Janet grabbed Topher's hand and began to sob.

Topher pulled his hand away from his wife and shook his head. Using his arms and hands, he moved to the side of the bed. Jordan and Janet reacted, rushing to his side, but he stuck his left arm and hand out towards them, still shaking his head.

Now sitting up, Topher again used his hands, this time to pull his legs over the side of the bed. Taking a deep breath, he slowly slid off the bed... and immediately collapsed to the floor. Janet and Jordan rushed to him.

"Janet, go home!" he yelled, staring straight ahead and avoiding eye contact.

A few seconds passed as everyone froze.

"... please," he said in a much softer tone, "the girls need you."

"But..." Janet started to say. Then she saw the look in Jordan's eyes.

"Okay," she whispered. She wanted to step towards her husband, but instead slowly exited the room.

* * *

_To be continued..._

I really appreciate any and all reviews. It's the reviewers who make writing so rewarding. Thanks so much in advance!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The Night Shift is property of NBC and all respective cast, crew , and employees. I am not making a profit off this. This is simply for fancition enjoyment.

Summary: What if Topher's surgery had turned out differently? How one moment in time changes everything.

Rating: PG-13

**Home**

Around the corner and down the hallway, TC paced.

"You keep doing that," Nurse Ramos said, "Ragosa's gonna charge you for prematurely wearing out the tiles."

TC gave a slight chuckle. Finally, he let out a slow breath and walked purposefully towards Topher's room. When he reached the room, Jordan was helping Topher back into bed.

"Oh great," Topher said, "more paparazzi."

TC asked Jordan for a moment alone with Topher and Jordan made a quick exit, lightly touching TC on the arm as she left.

"I'm done being kissed by you," Topher said as he settled back into bed, "... no offense."

"So Jordan told you about what happened?" TC asked.

"Yeah, guess you really should've killed Milo, huh?"

"I am so sorry...I just..." TC started, "wait a minute, what did Jordan tell you?"

"That because you all had to treat Milo, the bleeding in my spine went too far... why?" Topher raised a wary eyebrow at his friend.

TC resumed his pacing and found that he couldn't look his friend in the eyes.

"TC?"

TC let out a breath through his teeth.

"Jordan didn't tell you the whole truth... I'm the reason you're paralyzed." TC confessed in a rush.

"What?"

TC proceeded to explain what Scott has told him.

"The scary thing is..." TC finished softly, "I don't even remember what happened. All I remember is being pushed out of the OR."

A long silence descended in the room as TC looked at the floor and Topher looked away.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am..." TC began, but Topher cut him off.

"Don't be... you want to blame someone? Blame Milo. He's the one who held us hostage. He's the reason I had to wait longer for the second surgery... Hell, he's the one who shot me in the first place."

For a few moments, neither said a word. TC continued to stare at the floor.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" TC asked, finally meeting Topher in the eye.

"Because you are my friend. And this whole situation is messed up enough without us blaming each other."

"Still, I really am sorry."

"Yeah I know, but I told you. There's nothing for your to be sorry for."

* * *

"Scott, can we talk for a minute?" Jordan asked as she spotted Scott in the hallway.

Jordan closed the door to a small room behind her before speaking.

"You told TC that it was his fault Topher's paralyzed?"

"You heard about that?"

"You were in front of the nurse's station when you told him. Word travels fast."

"I was just telling the truth." Scott replied matter-of-factly.

Jordan looked up, trying to control her anger, "First of all, we don't know if that's true, and second if all, as head of the ER, it's _my_ job to tell TC what happened, not yours. You also had no right to tell him the way you did."

This time, it was Scott's turn to get angry.

"I had to! He wasn't facing reality. When are you going to stop protecting him? Today it was the outburst in the OR. Which, by the way, isn't the only time he's spaced out. What's it going to be tomorrow? Is he gonna go postal the next time his mind leaves the real world? Who knows? He might come out with guns blazing and shoot people."

Jordan glared back at Scott. Scott had no idea much his last words had hurt.

"That's it," Jordan said, her voice shaking, "we're done. It's obvious you've changed. I can't be with you anymore."

With that, turned on her heel and out the door, leaving a stunned Scott in her wake.

* * *

Paul sheepishly followed the nurse as she stepped into Topher's room.

Topher glared down as he saw what the nurse was carrying: a catheter kit.

"I'm sorry," Paul whispered.

Topher's glare softened to a gaze and he slowly looked up.

"It's okay," he said, his voice equally soft.

* * *

"Hey," Jordan greeted TC as he gathered medical supplies from the supply room.

"Hey, what're you still doing here?" TC responded, "You should go home."

"I will, I just need to take care of something first." She closed the door behind her.

TC smiled, but his expression turned serious when he saw Jordan's face.

"I saw what happened in the OR."

TC sighed, "Yeah, well that's all over now. I'm fine."

"Unfortunately, that's not for you to decide," Jordan said slowly, "after careful review, I have no choice but to suspend you."

"What?!"

"Pending review by a psychiatrist," Jordan interrupted before TC could speak further, "You'll see a psychologist for six weeks, after which time, if he clears you, you can come back to work."

"Jordan, I just blanked out a bit for a second, you can't... wait a minute... you said 'he.' I'm not going to see Landry?"

Jordan shook her head, "Since you know each other, it would be a conflict of interest. I'm sending you to see Dr. Abrams at Holy Cross."

"You can't be serious. I was just thinking about something else for a moment. And... and..." TC's voice trailed off as his thoughts took over.

"... and in that moment, Topher paid the price." He thought.

TC let out a deep breath.

"Okay," he said, throwing his hands up in defeat, "I'll go."

* * *

Topher sighed as physical therapist Mark Greensburg moved to lift him from the passenger seat to the adjacent wheelchair on the ground. Topher waved him off and pulled up the left armrest. With a lot of struggle, he used his hands to maneuver from inside the car to on his wheelchair.

"I have to learn sometime, right?"

Mark stepped back. When Topher was seated, he looked up at Janet, who had driven the three of them to their house.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier," Topher said, "and I'm sorry for this... all of this."

"We'll get through it," Janet assured him with an embrace.

"Daddy!"

The front door opened with a bang and Topher's older daughter, Lynn came running down the lawn. Tears began streaming down her cheeks as he hugged he father.

"It's okay," Topher whispered, "I'm okay, this is just temporary."

Janet caught Topher's words, but didn't say anything.

Lynn looked hard into Topher's eyes, still crying. Topher held his daughter's head with both of his hands.

"Really, I'm fine."

Topher then looked to his right.

"This is Mr. Greensburg," he introduced, "he'll be helping me adjust to my new wheelchair. He'll show me how to get in and out of bed, make dinner, stuff like that. Mr. Greensburg, this is my daughter, Lynn."

"Nice to meet you," Mark said, kneeling down to Lynn's level.

Lynn nodded, "Hi."

Over the next several hours, Mark showed Topher how to perform everyday tasks. From taking a shower, to cooking, to getting dressed, even simply maneuvering in a wheelchair, everything would take at least twice as long and be seemingly ten times more difficult. The corners of the hallways were barely wide enough for Topher to turn, even after a lot of maneuvering. Their heights of their two showers would have to be lowered and the heads would have to be switched out to ones with detachable arms. The kitchen counter was too tall, so a ramp with a platform would have to be built so Topher could reach it from his wheelchair. The crib for the twins would have to be switched out for one with a side that could be lowered so Topher could pick up the twins without having to reach over the railing.

The list of changes went on from there. Although Topher had seen paraplegics as patients, he had no idea how much they struggled just to get through the day.

To make matters worse, Topher and Janet's house was two stories. A chair lift could be built into the wall along the staircase, but that would take time and money. Although the family would take the time, it was money out of their savings account they hadn't planned for. Not that they had planned for any of this to begin with.

"We can have the technician come in two days to start building the chair lift and the ramp," Mark explained.

In the meantime, Topher would be restricted to the first floor.

"Thank you," Topher said as Mark prepared to walk out the door.

"I'll see you next week for your first physical therapy session," Mark replied.

"Do you have time tomorrow?"

"You don't have to rush it. You need some time to rest and adjust."

"There'll be plenty of time to do that when I'm at home," Topher countered, "the sooner I start the sessions, the sooner I can get out of this thing." He looked down the chair he was sitting in.

Mark looked as if he was going to say something, but nodded instead.

"See you tomorrow at 2 pm?"

"I'll be there."

* * *

Topher arrived early and scanned the area. The sounds of groaning, straining, and heavy breathing filled the room. Every once in a while, someone would wince and grimace in pain.

"You're new around here, right?"

Topher looked to his left. He had wheeled to the center of the physical therapy room where three sets of parallel bars stood. The person who just spoke was at the middle set. He was an African American male with a muscular physique. He was also in a wheelchair.

"Uh... yeah," Topher looked up. The sound of pain all around him seemed to invade his ears.

"Name's Gabriel, but people call me Gabe." He stuck his hand out.

Topher wheeled closer and shook his hand, "Topher. Nice to meet you, Gabe."

Gabe nodded. Slowly, Gabe lifted himself out of his wheelchair and with his physical therapist's help, stood tall enough to grip the parallel bars. As he struggled to move down the bars, he said, "You know, life kinda sucks sometimes. One stupid car accident and boom... here I am. Guy approaching an intersection fell asleep at the wheel and sideswiped my car. What about you?"

"Got shot." Topher said simply.

"Wow... that really sucks."

Topher chuckled ruefully, "Pretty much."

Gabe looked as if he was going to ask for details, but kept silent instead.

After a few minutes, Gabe's physical therapist told him to take a break and stepped away.

"So this is the torture room, huh?" Topher asked, scanning the room. Every once in a while, the sounds of grimacing and groans was punctured by yells of frustration. Usually over an inability to perform a simple task such as raising an arm or kicking a ball.

"Pretty much." Gabe replied.

"You know," Gabe continued, settling back into his wheelchair and wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel, "I've been coming here for six weeks and there still hasn't been any progress. Not that I should be surprised. Doctors have told me I have less than a twenty percent chance of walking again."

Topher thought for a moment.

"You know what I've heard?" he said, meeting Gabe in the eyes, "I've heard that doctors give you a lower probability of walking than what's real. You might have a fifty percent chance, but they tell you twenty percent."

"What? Why would they do that?"

"Because the U.S. is a sue-happy country If they give you a higher probability of walking and it ends up you aren't able to, you can sue them for giving you false hope. You can say that you've suffered emotionally from it. That you've wasted your time when you could have returned to work faster in a wheelchair and earned more money sooner."

"You serious?" Gabe raised an eyebrow at Topher.

"It's just what I've heard," Topher shrugged.

At the entrance of the room, Mark entered.

"Guess it's my turn to feel the pain," Topher gestured with his head towards Mark.

Soon, Gabe resumed his therapy at the parallel bars while Topher was given a walker to try to stand with some support.

"Can't I start at the parallel bars?" Topher asked.

"Let's just work our way up to it Topher," Mark smiled, "wish all my patients were as enthusiastic as you."

"Let's just say timeframes and numbers can fluctuate," Topher said, winking at Gabe.

* * *

A few weeks later, Topher and Gabe were working at the parallel bars side-by-side. Gabe moved down the bars with renewed strength, sweat dripping off his forehead. Topher worked as well, although his movements were much slower, having just started work on the bars.

Topher glanced at Gabe's and his own feet. None of which moved. It seemed more like they were working their arms than anything else.

"I'm back!" a voice shouted from behind.

A hand patted him on the back.

"TC!" Topher looked to his side.

"I'm cleared to return to work," TC announced proudly, "Scott can say all he wants, but I'm back."

"That's great!" Topher settled back into his wheelchair to slap his friend on the back as well.

"So you're fine?"

"Yeah," TC gave a half smile, "I guess I had to unload some things before I could move on."

The two filled each other in on how they had been doing. Both talked, but did not reveal specific details.

"Well, I should get going," TC said before leaving, "I've got some paperwork to fill out before I start my shift, and I heard..."

He said this next words in a whisper and a twinkle in his eye.

"That Jordan's back on the market."

"Woah," Topher warned, "down boy. It's only been a few weeks since she broke up with Scott. She probably just wants some space from any guy right now."

"Yeah," TC said absentmindedly as he walked away.

Before Topher could resume his physical therapy, Gabe spoke.

"You know that guy? Isn't he a doctor here?"

'Yeah," Topher admitted hesitantly.

"So... what you said about doctors giving us a low probability of waking. That's not just something you heard. That's something you know... right?"

"... yes, again," Topher smiled ruefully.

"Why didn't you tell me you're a doctor here?"

"Well, technically, as a doctor, I wasn't supposed to tell you that... about the statistics thing."

Gabe settled back into his wheelchair and mulled for a moment.

"But you weren't telling me that as a doctor," Gabe pointed out, "you were telling me that as a patient... and as a friend."

Topher shrugged, but didn't say anything. He glanced towards the entrance to the physical therapy room.

"I'll be right back," he said and wheeled towards it.

Dr. Drew Allister stood in the doorway, looking towards the side of the room. Topher followed his gaze. On the east side of the room, Rick, Drew's partner was being fitted for a prosthetic leg.

"I-I don't know what to say," Drew stammered, not taking his gaze off Rick.

"You don't have to say anything," Topher replied, "Just be there with him."

After several moment's hesitation, Drew found the strength to move towards Rick. Topher watched as two set eyes on each other and embraced. With one arm and hand stretched behind Rick's back and the other hand grabbing Rick's hand, Drew silently supported Rick as he tried to stand up for the first time.

* * *

After the physical therapy session, instead of going home, Topher headed for the ER.

"Jordan," he greeted the passing doctor.

"Topher, how are you doing?"

Topher shrugged, "Okay, given the circumstances, but I'd be doing better if I were back at work."

Jordan looked back at her colleague and friend.

"I'm going crazy at home., Topher said, "I've gotten so used to working nights, I'm awake while the kids are asleep. And all I do is think about when I can get back to work."

Before Jordan could respond, Topher continued.

"I know that now that I'm in a wheelchair, I won't be at the patient's level while they're on a gurney. I can build a platform so I can roll onto it and treat them."

Topher looked into Jordan's eyes. Jordan thought for a moment.

"Jordan... please."

"Alright," she said, "how about starting next Monday?"

"Great!"

* * *

Topher took a deep breath before wheeling into the ER.

"Hey Toph!"

TC turned around towards his friend and put his hand in the air. Topher gave TC a high five.

"Nice to have you back."

Topher smiled.

"Okay, we've got a triple bounce-back in room two and possible OD in room five..."

"I'll take that," Topher said,

Drew looked down beside him and after a glance, handed the chart to Topher.

"How's Rick?"

"Doing as well as can be expected," Drew said, "it'll take some time to get used to the new leg."

"I'm sure he's glad you'll be with him to help him through it."

Drew gave a small smile.

Topher nodded before heading to room five.

In room five, a young man who looked to be in his twenties lay on the gurney. He was semi-conscious and his breathing was shallow. His parents sat beside him.

"Hi," Topher said. The parents turned towards him. Their double-takes and lingering glances did not escape the physician.

"Are you the doctor?"

Topher nodded.

"Dr. Zia," Topher greeted, extending his hand. The father hesitantly shook his hand.

The night before, Topher and TC had dropped off the wooden platforms they had created and placed them in each exam room. Topher grabbed the one in the corner of the room by the leather strap on the side and began dragging it towards the gurney while maneuvering his wheelchair.

"Did you need some help?" the mother asked.

"Nope, thanks."

Once Topher was level with the patient, he began assessing him.

* * *

"You a doctor?"

Drew turned around to find a middle aged man speaking to him,

"Yeah, what can I help you with?"

"My son, he's in room five and... uh, I'm not comfortable with the doctor who's with him right now."

"Really? Why?" Drew asked, stepping with the man towards room five.

When Drew entered room five, he glanced at Topher.

"It's okay," the patient's father said to the seated doctor, "Dr... ah..."

He looked back at Drew.

"Allister, but-"

"Dr. Allister," the father smiled down at Topher, "will take over now."

As he said this, Topher shook his head in dismay.

"Actually," Drew said, "Dr. Zia is more than capable of-"

"It's okay," Topher said, "go treat the patient."

"But..."

Topher wheeled away, although not without a sidelong glare at the patient's father.

* * *

"I'm never going to walk again, am I?" Topher asked. He had just gotten into bed and was laying on his side.

Topher's first night back at work seemed the longest. Although the rest of Topher's patients allowed him to treat them, almost all questioned his judgment. Comments such as "are you sure?" and "Maybe we should check with another doctor." became common.

"Huh?" Janet was getting dressed for work. Usually, Topher closed the curtains to block the light, but this time he left them open. Daylight spilled into the room.

Janet climbed onto the bed and stroked the side of her husband's face.

"You're not sure about that" she said.

"Actually, I am," Topher replied, "at least now I am. If there was any chance of my walking, I would have done so by now."

"You can't give up. You've seen so many patients overcome odds they should've have."

"No, I have to face reality. Yes, there is a miniscule chance that I might walk, but I also have to prepare myself if that miniscule chance doesn't arise."

"Well, no matter what," Janet said, leaning over Topher to face him, "we're in this together."

A smile spread across Topher's face, "Thanks. Love you."

"Love you too."

It was only when Janet left the room when Topher stopped smiling. No one saw the single tear shed down his face.

To be continued...

* * *

I really appreciate any and all reviews. It's the reviewers who make writing so rewarding. Thanks so much in advance!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The Night Shift is property of NBC and all respective cast, crew , and employees. I am not making a profit off this. This is simply for fancition enjoyment.

Summary: What if Topher's surgery had turned out differently? How one moment in time changes everything.

Rating: PG-13

**Home**

"You've got to stop these daredevil stunts."

"I wasn't doing any stunts. I was just climbing a tree."

Topher pulled back the curtain of Area 4. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the young patient: a fourteen-year-old paraplegic boy. The boy and his parents stared back at Topher.

"H-Hi," Topher stammered, breaking the silence, "I'm Dr. Zia."

He faced the boy, "But you could call me Topher. What seems to be the problem?"

The boy's mother gestured with her head, "Brian here, was trying to climb a tree, _even though I told him not to_. He fell and hit his head."

Topher nodded and began examining Brian. For the first time, Topher did not have to use his ramp. He could easily reach his patient without assistance from devices.

"I can still move my arms like before," Brian said, "I'm fine."

"You should've have been out there," Brian's mother countered.

"I was just playing with Jack," Brian replied, looking at Topher, "my younger brother. He climbed up the tree and bet I couldn't follow him. I couldn't let him get away, could I?"

"Of course not," Topher grinned, "and I'd say you won that bet."

"I'm not so sure about that," Brian's father spoke, "Jack stayed in the tree but you didn't. Why do you think that is?"

Brian let out an exasperated breath.

"Because I'm paralyzed," Brian said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Topher looked from Brian to his parents and sighed. He moved away from his patient and towards the parents.

"Can I speak to you outside for a minute?"

As soon as they were down the hall, Topher spoke again.

"You need to stop telling Brian what he can and can't do."

"What?" Brian's mother was taken aback.

"Within reason," Topher continued, "as long as he's not doing anything dangerous, let Brian be who he is,"

"But he was doing something dangerous, he was..."

"climbing a tree," Topher finished for him.

Brian's father opened his mouth, but Topher continued on.

"Jack isn't paralyzed, is he?"

Brian's father shook his head.

"And did you tell Jack that he couldn't climb the tree?"

Brian's parents exchanged glances.

"May I ask how Brian was paralyzed?"

"He's always been fearless," Brian's mother said, "when he was eleven, he and his friend were playing Frisbee in the backyard, Well, his friend threw it too far and it landed on the roof. Instead of telling one of us, Brian got a ladder out of the garage himself and went onto the roof. As he was getting the Frisbee, he slipped and landed on his back on the concrete below."

"Our lives haven't been the same since." Brian's father said.

Topher silently absorbed this.

"I understand that you want to protect him from any further harm," he explained, "but you should be glad that he's not moping around, feeling sorry for himself."

Topher met both parents in the eyes.

"Look, what he can do has been severely restricted, and he is going to hold onto any ounce of freedom that he can... Don't take that away from him."

With that, Topher returned to the examining room, while Brian's parents looked at one another.

* * *

"We just want to be completely sure everything's okay," Topher said to Brian. He followed Brian as they made their way to the CT room. An orderly led the way. She was supposed to push Brian in his wheelchair, but Brian insisted that he could maneuver on his own.

"What if there is something wrong?" Brian asked as he wheeled into the CT room.

Topher hung back. His mind flashed back to the last time he was in this room. The fear from being held hostage. The horror of seeing Dwayne being shot in cold blood. The searing pain in his stomach as the bullet tore through his body. The taste of his own blood as he struggled to breathe, collapsing to the floor. How surreal it was, hearing his colleagues assure him that they'd take care of him while he was unable to respond.

"Topher?" Brian said, "Yo, Topher?" he waved his hand in front of Topher's face as the doctor stared straight ahead.

Topher shook out of his revere.

"Yeah?"

"You okay?"

"I'm, fine...uh... .like I said, we just want to make sure things are okay."

"What if things are not okay?"

"We'll deal with it," Topher explained, "but let's just get the scans first."

As the orderly lifted Brian into the bed that would slide into the CT scanner, Brian spoke with a shaky voice, "S-so... uh how did you end up in a wheelchair? You tick off a drug dealer?"

Topher laughed, "Nope, but I did get shot."

"We're you scared?"

"Yeah... but it's okay to be scared."

Topher noticed that Brian's hands began to shake.

"Hey," Topher said gently, putting his hands onto Brian's, "it's okay. You're going to be fine. If there is something wrong, and that's a big if, we'll tackle it, okay?"

Brian nodded, swallowing hard.

Topher looked away, at the exact spot where he was shot.

"Y-you're gonna be here, right?" Brian asked shakily.

Topher forced himself to look back towards Brian. He couldn't afford to be distracted. Not now.

"I'll be right in the next room," Topher assured Brian, "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

"CT scans are clear," Topher announced to Brian's parents back in the examining room, "he's perfectly fine, other than a small bump on his head. He's free to go home."

"Thank you doctor," Brian's mother said.

"Can we still go still camping next week?" Brian asked, "I heard they have horseback riding next to the campsite."

For a moment, Brian's father cringed, but he glanced at Topher and winked, "As long as I get to ride first."

"Yes!"

"Hey Brian," Topher said, "betcha can't beat me in a race down the hallway."

"You're on!"

Moments later, Toper and Brian were pushing their wheelchairs as fast as they could go.

"Hey!" Ragosa jumped back, nearly stepping into the path of the racing Brian. The papers he was carrying were sent flying with Brian laughing in his wake. Brian beat Topher by just a hair.

Moments later, Topher was signing Brian's discharge papers.

"Thank you again," Brian's father shook Topher's hand.

"My pleasure."

As Topher watched Brian and his family leave, he passed in front of the darkened physical therapy room. A silhouette caught his eye. He slowly approached the shadow in the dark.

"Gabe?" he said as he recognized the person sitting in front.

"Hey," Gabe said, barely acknowledging his friend.

"What're you doing here? You okay?"

"What's the use?" Gabe said to no one in particular, "I've been doing physical therapy for months on end and I haven't made any progress."

Topher hung his head, thinking about what Gabe wasn't saying; what he just said applied to both of them.

"I'm sorry," he said softly not knowing what else to say.

"I've been thinking about it too," Topher said quietly, "how much I want to walk again. I want to be able to run. I want to be able play tag with my kids. There's so many things I want to do again, but can't.

"Then after a while, I realize how much time I've wasted focusing on things I can't do and what I can't have. If I'm just thankful for what I do have, maybe life would be a little easier."

Gabe raised his eyes at Topher.

"You know how ridiculously corny that is, right?"

Topher finally laughed, "I'm serious. You should try it sometime. Hey, no more searching forever for a parking space. We can just take an empty handicapped spot."

"Oh geez," Gabe muttered to himself. He grabbed a soft physical therapy ball and threw it at Topher.

Topher threw it right back at him. Gabe, not expecting the return, fumbled the ball in his hands and it dropped to his feet. Where, ever so slightly, his right foot moved.

Topher and Gabe stared at one another. Quickly, Topher wheeled to the front of the room and turned the light switch on.

"Do it again."

Concentrating hard, Gabe looked down at his feet... and they moved. Ever so slightly, both feet moved about two inches.

"Ha ha!" Gabe raised his fists in the air.

"You know what this means, right?" Topher said excitedly.

"I'm gonna walk again!" Gabe shouted in victory.

Topher and Gabe high-fived and patted each other strongly on the back.

* * *

Two months later, Topher was arriving home from another night shift. His car had finally been fitted with hand accelerators and breaks so he could drive again.

As he entered his house, his cellphone rang.

"Hey Toph."

"Gabe! What's up?"

"I'm, ah, having a barbeque next Saturday and was wondering if you and your family would like to come."

Topher relayed the information to Janet, who had just given the twins their bottles.

"Sure, we'd love to go," Topher said after hearing Janet's affirmative response, "what's the occasion?"

"It's ah, to celebrate the return of my full mobility... I hope you don't mind."

"Why would I mind?"

A moment's hesitation passed before Gabe spoke again, "I didn't want to rub it in your face seeing as how I can wal-"

"Seeing as how you're bigger, stronger, and more handsome than me?"

Gabe chuckled.

"No, really, I'm so happy for you," Topher's sincerity could be heard through the phone.

After a few minutes of catching up, Topher ended the conversation with, "I have to go now, I'm going to play tag with my daughter."

After hanging up the phone, he headed straight for the backyard where Lynn was reading a book. Just a few moments later, the two were chasing each other on the pavement. Topher would tag Lynn with a giant foam hand, enabling him to reach her without running her over with his wheelchair. Lynn would then take the foam hand and try to tag her father after giving him a few second's head start.

"Lynn?" Topher spoke after the two had worn each other out, "Do me a favor... if life puts roadblocks in your way..."

"Go around them and find your way back home." Lynn finished the sentence happily, having heard what her father said before.

"That's my girl."

"While the two embraced, from inside the house, Janet placed the twins on the couch facing the sliding door to the backyard.

"You see your Daddy?" she whispered, "You don't have anything to worry about. He's going to be just fine."

* * *

So what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Either way, I welcome any and all reviews. Thanks so much!


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